


It's Technically Not an Affair

by Raptorik



Category: Tales of Zestiria
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, Sormik Advent Calendar 2018, alcohol use, merry heckin christmas, there's like... one sad handjob near the end if that matters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-24
Updated: 2018-12-24
Packaged: 2019-09-25 19:58:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17127776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Raptorik/pseuds/Raptorik
Summary: Mikleo had been looking forward to meeting his in-laws over dinner on Christmas Eve.It might have gone well if he'd shown up at the right house.





	It's Technically Not an Affair

**Author's Note:**

> Hello all! This is my first time writing for the ToZ fandom! This was done for the Sormik Advent Calendar 2018 - prompt was the movie "A Very Merry Mix Up," in which the main character winds up at the wrong house and nobody realizes it until it's too late. 
> 
> After reading a full summary of the movie, I was ecstatic for my chance to take a stab at it! Unfortunately, due to work, family, and other junk messing with my schedule, I had to omit pretty much half of the story to meet the deadline, so the pacing in the second half is sorta off. I did my best to scrap together what I could, though, and I hope you all enjoy it!

Camlann was a nice little town, quaint and cozy and isolated from the worries of the bigger cities that dotted the landscape. Despite his fondness for his hometown, though, Mikleo was glad to be leaving for the holidays. This year, the snow had brought along with it the usual feelings of dread and gloom, awful emotions that stuck in his chest no matter how hard he tried to focus on anything else.

The windows of the ice cream shop below his meager apartment had been boarded up since September. Summers were usually profitable enough that he could keep the place open through most of autumn, but this year's mild weather had destroyed his sales and sapped away his savings, leaving him with just enough to pay his bills through January – which he had done in advance, just to be safe. The lack of business had been eating away at his composure for too long; he couldn't even bring himself to think about any of his seven or eight backup plans for what to do at the turn of the year without feeling physically ill.

So, he did what he'd been doing for a while now and simply pushed the thoughts out of his mind, instead double and triple-checking every lock and window in the building so that he wouldn't come home to find that he'd been robbed on top of everything else. Sure, the insurance money would probably be more useful than any of his broken appliances or valuables, but then he would have to replace everything to keep the place open, or even find a new home for the first time in his life. Even entertaining that possibility was too much.

Satisfied only after his fourth or fifth round, he finally retrieved his travel bag, which was, in actuality, nothing more than an old backpack. He'd never needed to buy a suitcase and had only recently learned just how expensive luggage could be. If concerned by how light his passenger was traveling, the taxi driver who'd been waiting outside made no show of it. Apart from asking for his destination, the man didn't speak, and Mikleo made no attempt at conversation, himself, content in the silence as always.

The airport was a twenty minute ride from Camlann, one straight shot on a highway that cut through an expanse of farmland and wooded areas that hadn't yet been cleared to make room for even more farmland. There wasn't much to see, even on such a bright and sunny afternoon, so Mikleo let his eyes fall shut and tried to prop himself up away from the window, wary of the number of greasy face prints and other smudges on the glass. Stranger germs were the last thing he needed right before meeting his fiance's family for the first time.

He could imagine it without even putting in any effort; surrounded by dozens of people with whom he'd never spoken, face broken out from _whatever_ that was on the window, maybe coughing and hacking, or even being stuck in the bathroom –

He sat up just a little straighter and pulled his long ponytail over his shoulder so that it wouldn't be pressed between his back and whatever hidden dangers lurked within the fabric of the car seat. After accepting that he wasn't going to be napping along the ride, he pulled his phone out of his pocket to check the time, only to realize that he had two missed calls and a slew of new text messages from his husband-to-be.

Worry knotted itself in his stomach even before he started reading.

_Hey, Mik! I hate doing this to you, but I'm not going to be able to make it to the airport in time to catch our flight. Some stuff came up at work and I had to get it done before our vacation. I already spoke to the airline, though, and they found me a seat on the next plane to Ladylake._

_Thankfully, there won't be a layover on my flight, so I should only be three or four hours behind you! There is a downside, though. Since it's Christmas Eve, everything is full. They only had one available seat, so that means you'll have to catch your flight by yourself._

_Go ahead and use my credit card to get yourself a ride to my brother's place from LIA. I already talked to my family, and they're more than happy to entertain you until I arrive._

_Good luck! I know everyone back home is a little weird, but I'm sure you'll love them. They're pretty excited to meet you!_

_By the way, I'll be in a meeting for a while, and I have a mandatory conference call right after that, so please try not to call unless it's an emergency. The boss is on my ass again. Love you!_

Mikleo's blood could have turned to ice, and he wouldn't have been able to tell the difference. The texts meant he would be flying for the first time, alone, to a city he'd never even visited before, armed with only enough cash for two meals (if he could stretch it out that far) and one rideshare app with his fiance's credit card information _thankfully_ already saved. And now he was supposed to meet a handful of new people, without their common link even present?

Merry Christmas indeed.

He tried to calm his nerves, but the rest of the trip went just about as poorly as its first five minutes. After weaving through traffic at breakneck speeds that left him more than a little disoriented, the taxi driver dropped him at the entrance to Terminal One – which Mikleo did not realize until the man, along with his filthy car, had already left. His flight would be leaving from a gate in Terminal Three, on the exact opposite end of the airport.

Then, he forgot to remove his laptop from his bag when going through security. That fiasco cost him fifteen minutes of pat-downs and pretty much every last shred of his dignity. By the time he made it to his gate, he didn't even have a chance to sit down before his boarding group was called into line, and so he trudged down the lane with his belt half-fastened and his shoes half-laced and fought through the ordeal of finding his seat amidst a sea of flailing arms and hard-edged luggage being tossed about.

By the time he made it to the proper row, his window seat, the one thing he'd been looking forward to, had been claimed by a young boy whose mother had been assigned the middle spot. "You don't mind sitting by the aisle, do you? The view is the only thing that keeps him calm on long flights like this."

"Calm" involved an awful lot of shrieking, as it turned out, and the boy pulled the opaque plastic cover over the window long before they reached cruising altitude, clearly uninterested by what had promised to be a breathtaking view of the clouds over the mountains. By the time the plane reached Ladylake, Mikleo had renewed his lifetime vow to never have children at least seven times – the exact same number of times the refreshment cart knocked into his knee or elbow, followed by the same number of apologies grumbled by entirely unapologetic flight attendants.

The terrible ride from the Ladylake International Airport to the outskirts of the foreign city came as no surprise, considering how well everything else had gone. His driver reeked of garlic and had just about the worst taste in music humanly possible. He also drove way too fast on the winding mountain roads, flying past neighborhood after neighborhood until the streets turned into a single, unpaved lane that was hardly wide enough for two cars to pass each other by. They snaked their way higher and higher up the mountain as the sun slowly sank below the horizon, Mikleo offering short, but polite answers to all the questions the driver shouted over the obnoxious electronica that was blasting from the speakers.

Finally, _finally_ , after passing a moderately concerning, boarded-up fuel station that looked as if it had been closed for at least three decades, they reached one last neighborhood tucked away in the rocky landscape near the treeline. "Elysia Welcomes You," read the sign over the gate, immediately followed by another sign that read, "Part of the Ladylake Greater Metropolitan Area since." Whatever numbers had been on the stickers had long since faded away, but Mikleo had a suspicion that it didn't really matter; the gate may as well have been ancient compared to the architecture he'd seen along the ride. Ladylake may have absorbed the village, but judging by the few houses he could see, the village had not been affected by the merger. He was reminded quite suddenly of home, of a Camlann where his mother was still alive and would lead him on long walks through the countryside just a few blocks away from their front door.

He had to get out. "I'll walk from here," he announced, finally breaking the uncomfortable silence that had grown between him and the man in the front seat. The driver did not argue. He'd steadily grown less and less friendly the further from civilization they had traveled, so Mikleo was not surprised.

After a curt goodbye, he swung one of his bag's straps over his shoulder and strolled past the gate, listening as the angry growl of the car's engine faded into the distance. Once the driver was gone, the only sound he could make out was that of his boots crunching against the snow. Though the windows were lit on every house he passed, and there were clearly several sets of tire tracks on the road, there were no other signs that people actually lived in Elysia. By no means was Camlann big enough to qualify as a city, but the nighttime there had always been full of noise, whether from passing vehicles on the highway or from the town's entire god-forsaken dog population barking like mad at any hour they pleased. This kind of silence was notably different, but it also instilled within him a remarkable sense of peace.

His musings managed to distract him from how terrible the entire day had been, if only for a little while, until the GPS on his phone signaled that he'd reached his destination. As his fiance had promised, the house certainly was the brightest on the street; colorful lights were strung not only from the gutters, but around each of the windows as well as the front porch, twinkling merrily along with the few stars that weren't obscured by the clouds in the sky. The hedges were neatly trimmed and fully decked, and someone had even taken the time to string lights around the enormous evergreen trees that took up most of the front lawn.

His first thought was of the monstrous electric bill that would be coming to punish whoever had done this. Next, he wondered who, exactly, would take the time to decorate so extravagantly in such a remote area. Was the neighborhood perhaps hosting a contest that required all its participants to scale dangerously tall ladders for the sake of an award? Did the neighbors appreciate the colorful glow? Was it a fire hazard? Who in the world even had the _time_ to do something so outrageous?

Mikleo struggled to push aside his trepidation and followed the paving-stone path up to the porch. His stomach was tying itself in knots at the prospect of meeting his future family, but he did not stop, pushing his way past the overgrown branches of the evergreens until he stood before the (upsettingly tall) front door, suddenly feeling much, much smaller than he had since before his last growth spurt as a teen. Without the branches to obscure his view of the house, it looked more like a mansion, or maybe one of the castles that still dotted the countryside below. This was no crumbling ruin, however, and no amount of immaculate stonemasonry could distract him from the daunting task at hand.

He stepped forward, staring down at his shoes while he tried to build up the courage to do what he must. A dozen or so little peace doves met his eyes with their own, part of a sickeningly cute design that matched neither the regal appearance of the house nor the rainbowy-festive atmosphere of the yard, but something about its charm calmed his nerves, so he stepped over the "wel- _coo_ -m" mat and knocked on the door before he could change his mind.

After a few moments, he could make out a shuffling sound from inside the house. Before he could even process what was happening, the heavy door swung open, revealing two nearly-identical women who probably weren't much older than him. "The new fiancé!" they yelled in unison, each grabbing him by a sleeve of his sweater in order to haul him through the entryway. Unsure of what to do or whether or not he should be fighting back, Mikleo let them lead him inside, trying to absorb everything about his surroundings as they went.

"Where's your hubby-to-be?" asked the one with sandy brown hair. She practically danced in place as she waited for him to take off his boots, exuding a level of excitement that was almost palpable.

"He had something come up at work, so he'll be here in a few hours." After he'd finished wrestling his boots off, he offered a hand, which they both grabbed at the same time. "Anyway, I'm Mikleo."

"It's so nice to meet you, finally!" The other girl was the first to release him, but she stayed close, grinning up at him with a smile identical to the other's. "I'm Melody, and this is Cynthia. We've been waiting _ages_ for this –"

"He wouldn't tell us anything about you!"

"He wanted it to be a surprise for everyone, like _hiding your relationship_ is a good Christmas present for _anyone_ –"

"But our brother's, like, super dumb, so it's really no surprise."

"Right!"

Mikleo found himself falling into the stride of the conversation, never mind the fact that the two of them were talking so fast and interrupting each other every two breaths. "Wait, so... nobody here knows about me?"

"Oh, we know _about_ you," Cynthia explained, as if it were the simplest thing in the world. "He's been gushing about you nonstop for months now! And with good reason, too."

"How'd he land someone half as gorgeous as you?"

Mikleo wanted to curl up and die, kind of, as he felt an unmistakable heat spread across his face. "Th-thanks, I guess?" He wasn't unused to compliments, but rarely were they so... in his face.

"He just wouldn't let us know who you were. Said something about keeping his privacy for once, whatever that means."

"Probably so we wouldn't tell super embarrassing stories behind his back, or stalk you on social media?"

"It's whatever. Our brother is dumb."

Mikleo decided he liked the twins, though he still did _not_ like the fact that he was supposed to join a family Christmas celebration as a complete stranger to these people. The sentiment must have shown on his face, he realized, because Cynthia's smile faded rather quickly.

"I'm sorry. This must be a lot for you to take in. I can't believe he made you come all the way out here by yourself!"

Melody chimed in, giving his arm a little pat. "Hey, it's only five-thirty. If you want to wait to meet everyone else 'til he gets here, we can sneak you into the kitchen. Nobody's allowed in there if they've been drinking – and _everyone's_ already super drunk. Like, jello-shots-and-Twister drunk."

"Gotta love family gatherings!"

The offer sounded like the ultimate easy way out, but Mikleo could not find it in himself to power through another introduction, not with the anxiety from the trip still eating away at his composure. "I think I'd like that, actually."

"Melody, make sure nobody's looking. We'll pretend it was another neighbor letting us know about those lights that are out!"

The plan went off without a hitch. Just a minute or so later, Mikleo found himself being shoved through a set of swinging doors and into a kitchen that was easily the size of his entire shop. The room wasn't lit nearly as brightly as the rest of the house would have suggested; the only light came from the window over the sink and the three hanging lamps over the enormous island, which were shrouded in dark amber glass that cast a strange ambiance over the room. Mikleo's eyes took a good moment to adjust, but when they finally had, he realized that he wasn't alone, despite the twins' promises.

"I said nobody was allowed in here," came a voice from the other side of the room.

Startled, Mikleo searched for the owner of the voice. He realized, then, that the refrigerator was open; the only reason he hadn't noticed the light was because it was mostly hidden by a large, fuzzy white thing. He couldn't discern what, exactly, he was looking at – not until the figure turned around and raised itself up to its full height.

The undignified snort that tore its way out of him came too fast for him to even try holding it back. Before him, in all his ridiculous glory, stood a man in a white fleece polar bear onesie, complete with paws, oversized white slippers, and a fluffy headband with large, round ears on it. The man had his arms crossed over his chest and had the most exaggerated pout on his face, clearly trying (and failing) to look stern at the prospect of someone breaking his rules.

"Uhh, hi there."

"Oh! I'm sorry!" The man quickly dropped his arms to his side and rounded the island, closing the distance between them in just a few strides. "You must be my brother's fiancé! When did you get here?"

"J-just a minute ago."

"I see! Well, sorry for telling you off! You're more than welcome to help yourself to some food – we wound up eating way earlier than I anticipated, but the leftovers are still warm!" The man waved his arm in the direction of the island, and Mikleo noticed for the first time that it was completely covered in bowls and pans. "You must be tired after such a long trip. Don't feel bad if you need to hang out in here and get away from all the noise! Our family can be a little overwhelming at first."

Mikleo nodded, even though he was sure he wouldn't be able to keep anything down with how badly his stomach had knotted itself. "Thank you," he said anyway.

"Well, anyway, I'm Sorey, the little brother," the onesie-clad man continued, offering his paw-gloved hand.

"Mikleo." They wound up bumping their fists instead of shaking, once they realized that Sorey's paws prevented him from actually clasping their hands together. Mikleo tried really, really hard not to laugh again. "It's a pleasure."

"Nice to meet you, finally! Make yourself at home, and please don't mind the mess. I swear it was clean in here before everyone else showed up!"

A bout of raucous laughter sounded off in the next room over. Sorey rolled his eyes and huffed, but Mikleo got the distinct impression that he wasn't being serious in the slightest.

"Seriously, they're _so loud_ ," he whined. "It's usually just me around here, so when everyone comes around it's _basically_ torture."

Mikleo thought back to the size of the house, and was suddenly no longer lost for conversation. "You live here _alone_?" He had known for a long while that he would be marrying into money, but this was on a completely different level. The house was larger than anything he had seen back in Camlann, and considering the higher cost of living in Ladylake, yearly taxes alone had to cost a fortune. He and Sorey looked to be around the same age; it didn't seem real (or fair) that one person under thirty could even afford to live in such a luxurious estate.

Instead of smiling, or showing an ounce of pride, Sorey deflated just a bit. "Well, yeah. This used to be our grandfather's place," he explained, turning to busy himself with whatever he'd been doing in the refrigerator when Mikleo had first entered the room. "He technically left it to all us grandkids, but nobody else wanted to stay all the way out here in Elysia. They're all married, or have jobs that keep them away, so they decided to sign it over to me for my birthday last year." Something like ice stabbed through Mikleo's abdomen. He'd known this guy for a whopping minute, maybe minute and a half, and yet he _knew_ there was no chance he was lying for sympathy.

The hollow tone of his voice warned Mikleo of the bounds he'd overstepped, and he was truly sorry for asking, but more than just remorse, he felt a different discomfort budding in his chest. This was the same feeling he'd been trying to fight down ever since he'd seen the messages on his phone. There were so many things he didn't know about his future family, so many details that _would have been helpful_ if only he'd been given the knowledge. Now, he'd gone and made the party's host uncomfortable, when Sorey had been so kind as to open up his home to a complete stranger.

He had to figure out how to act in the next three-to-five hours, or he'd have some explaining to do when his fiancé showed up.

Sorey turned from the fridge with a small box in his hands, his former smile mostly back in its place. "You don't need to apologize or anything," he said before Mikleo could even open his mouth. "It's not something any of us are good at talking about, so you've probably never even heard about it. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

"No, that's not it, it's just..." Mikleo trailed off, focusing on the light fixtures just to the left of Sorey's face so that he wouldn't actually have to make eye contact. He should have known before arriving. _Someone_ should have had the courtesy to give him some details about his family, instead of keeping quiet and setting him up for this catastrophic failure of an introduction. "I just feel bad bringing something like that up during a time of celebration."

"Oh, don't, please." Sorey, with his bear paws now buttoned back, tossed the small box onto the dark granite countertop, where it landed next to an assortment of jars, before he turned to a cabinet and resumed his hunt. "Seriously, it's a wonder this place hasn't gone up in flames yet. Aunt Myrna's already started scolding Ed about his bad life choices, probably because of all the cider, so I've already had to break up _that_ argument. And then there's Great Uncle Taccio; he's mad that he got dragged along in the first place. He's been complaining about my cooking _all day._ "

When Mikleo dared to return Sorey's gaze, he found a large grin waiting for him. "Well," he found himself asking, caution apparently thrown to the wind, "does he have good reason?"

Sorey laughed, looking sheepish. "Probably. Thank goodness my sisters showed up a day early! They fixed everything I messed up while I did my part and cried in the bathroom."

The ice within him melted, just like that, and Mikleo heard the sound of his own laughter spilling out before he could process the emotional whiplash. "I'm sorry!" he insisted, but only after Sorey had decided to pout in his direction once again. "It's just so relatable."

"It's a typical family reunion, I guess," Sorey agreed. He seemed unable to hold even a fake frown for long, as he was already smiling brightly again. "I give it another ten minutes before Shiron's out back puking his guts up; guy can't hold his liquor for anything. If it weren't so one-sided, I'd ask if you care to make a wager."

"I might be game, anyway. Show me which one's Shiron?"

Sorey waved him over to the other side of the kitchen and a second set of swinging doors. They stood shoulder-to-shoulder, peering through the little windows on either side. From their vantage, they could see most of what had to be the living room, which was decorated just as lavishly as the exterior of the house. The tree in the far corner, laden with countless strings of garland and lights, towered at least ten feet tall, while a good dozen or so people lounged around on the surrounding furniture and an assortment of mismatched beanbag chairs. Bits and pieces of their animated conversations made it past the doors, but Mikleo couldn't focus on them, too entranced by the scene before him.

When his mother had been alive, he'd loved spending hours and hours decorating the shop and their little apartment above. They didn't have other family like this – the two of them had spent every holiday alone after his Uncle Michael had passed away. After the loss of his mother, he simply hadn't found it within himself to hang the lights around the windows or put up the tree. He'd always just focused on his work instead, content to hide himself away from all the merriment so that he wouldn't succumb to the nostalgic emotions that really just made him want to rip out his own heart – which was currently screaming its protests over the cheerful scene before them.

Thankfully, Sorey spoke, distracting him with useful information. "Okay, so over on the couch? Those are my older sisters, Cynthia and Melody. They're identical twins and will totally use that to their advantage if you let them get the best of you."

"They're the ones who let me in."

"Yeah, they've been hovering around the door all day, waiting for you guys to show up. Our brother has always liked his privacy, so they're way nosier than the average sibling, or so I've been told."

"Sounds about right."

Sorey chuckled, pointing to the third person on the couch. "That's Loanna, our cousin, but they may as well be triplets." The woman there, whose hair was dyed greener than the tree, did look remarkably similar to the others. "She's here with Aunt Myrna – she's the one over by the window, green dress? And the one next to her, in the blue, is Aunt Medea. Both of them answer to 'Auntie' though, so if you can't remember their names, just try that.

"Great Uncle Taccio is in that recliner; it's a crapshoot on whether he's actually asleep or not. Sometimes he just pretends so that he can eavesdrop. And Uncle Lawrence and Uncle Moymor are the ones at the chess table over _there_. Uncle Shaun is the one watching, and his son, Ed, is the one glued to the TV. Then, there are the other twins, Kyme and Shiron – see, the one over by the snack bar? Green around the gills, black vest? That's the one we're watching out for."

Mikleo didn't need to look at Shiron for more than a few seconds before he deduced that Sorey was right. There was definitely going to be some puking happening soon.

He tried to decide what to say, then, caught somewhere between his own memories and the number of people whose names he would have to remember by the end of the evening. Quite suddenly, it seemed too much; here he was, still an outsider, watching these people (who were so _comfortable_ around each other) talk and laugh as they likely always had – he, who had never had more than three people in his home at one time, who would never be able to relax enough in this sort of environment to seem the least bit normal.

It came as no wonder that his fiancé hadn't told his family anything about him.

As if sensing the negativity from his thought spiral, Sorey turned to him again, clasping a hand on his shoulder. "But none of that is important right now!" he continued, as if he'd never stopped talking in the first place. "Let's get you something to eat. Plates are over here, and – oh, what do you want to drink?"

Several minutes later, Sorey had managed to clear a small area on the island, just big enough for a plate and a sizable glass of red wine, "To calm your nerves!" as he insisted. Mikleo perched himself on a bar stool and leaned onto the counter, hardly caring for manners at this point as he tried to decide what to eat first. His stomach was still churning, but he also knew that it was partially due to how little he'd eaten before his flight, so he took a fork in hand and forced himself to focus on the task at hand.

After the first few bites, he noticed that Sorey had busied himself once again, leaving an substantial silence hanging over the room. Three sizable gulps of wine later, he decided it would be best to keep the conversation going. He did not enjoy being left alone with his current thoughts. "What are you making over there?"

Sorey looked up, flashing him another smile. "Garbage food," he answered, sounding more than proud of himself.

"Really?"

"Yeah, it's crap. But it's _delicious_ crap, so it's okay."

Mikleo sat up a little straighter so that he could see over the mountain of serving dishes between them. Sorey was holding a bowl, stirring the thick, white contents as vigorously as he could with a wooden spoon. Mikleo could finally make out the label on the box he'd pulled from the fridge earlier – cream cheese – as well as the labels on the other containers that had already been there.

"Some sort of dessert, then?"

"If you can even call it that." Sorey laughed and put the bowl down on the counter. He fished around in a drawer for a moment before producing a spoon, which he dipped into the bowl before walking it around to Mikleo's side of the island. "Here, it's not done, but that doesn't matter. It's still life-changing."

Mikleo took the spoon and popped it into his mouth, not wanting to hurt Sorey's feelings by rejecting his cooking, if it could even be called that. He did not regret the decision in the slightest. The creamy mixture was tangy and sweet, melting over his tongue as easily as ice cream, but without all the tooth pain and brain freeze that was usually involved. It was, in fact, delicious crap, and Mikleo was certain he'd be leaving the place with a new addiction if he let himself have any more than a single bite.

Sorey returned to his side of the kitchen, but seemed to be waiting for a response, his eyebrows raised in a hopeful little arc as he began stirring once more.

After he'd managed to clean the rest of the goop off of the spoon, Mikleo set it aside. "What did you just _give_ me?"

"It's supposed to be a fruit dip, but I never actually get around to doing the fruit part. So it's just. Dip."

"Dip dip," Mikleo announced, eloquently.

"Dip dip," Sorey agreed. "It's a Christmas tradition – Gramps's recipe! He used to get so mad when I'd sneak in and eat it all. We'd have apples and pears for days afterward, and he'd just give me this _look_ every time. Totally worth it, though." Mikleo couldn't help but laugh. Sorey's grin was equal parts mischievous and wistful as he recalled the memories, but there was none of the discomfort from before hanging in the air between them at the mention of his late grandfather. "He tried to teach me how not to suck in the kitchen, but none of it stuck, so he gave me this recipe instead, since it's impossible to mess up. Now I'm the only one who has it, and everyone is super jealous."

"He sounds a lot like my mom." Mikleo took another long sip of his wine, glad for the fuzzy warmth it brought him even in the face of such a potentially heavy conversation. "She owned her own little dessert shop, and tried really hard to teach me how to do everything before she died. Fast forward a few years, everything is broken and I can't bake a cake to save my life, but at least I can make some damn good ice cream."

"Oh, I love ice cream." Sorey drew his vowels out as if he were lamenting the loss of his dearest possession. "That's one thing that sucks about living out here in Elysia. The closest grocery store is about two hours away, almost three hours when there's this much snow on the ground. It's basically impossible to keep it frozen long enough to get it home!"

"Well, next time I visit, I'll just bring some ingredients and make you some. In exchange for the dip."

Sorey beamed. "Yeah, you'll have to come back, for sure!"

Mikleo returned the smile, finally relaxing as the last of his worry was eaten up by the growing warmth in his chest. Thank god for the wine – it had finally put his anxiety at bay, replacing it with a sort of fuzzy happiness he hadn't felt for months, now. So much time had passed since he'd been able to hold a conversation without feeling as if he were tiptoeing across upturned knife blades, waiting to sink to his doom as the weight on his shoulders had grown and grown; to be speaking so easily felt foreign, but it was not unwelcome.

Along with the good mood came the return of his appetite, all at once and impossible to ignore. Mikleo busied himself with the rest of the food that was heaped on his plate while Sorey went back to work on his not-actually-for-fruit dip. He was thankful that he'd been able to click with at least one of his future family members, even if he hadn't been there all that long just yet; from what his fiancé had told him of his family in Ladylake, he'd been expecting to meet a bunch of stuck-up busybodies who would have had their entire Christmas dinner catered. Here, stuck in the confines of the kitchen with his perpetually friendly future brother-in-law, he was pretty sure he wouldn't have been happy if it had turned out any other way.

Even if Sorey looked absolutely ridiculous in his polar bear pajamas.

 

* * *

 

Mikleo leaned back into the plush cushions of the arm chair he'd chosen, balancing his third glass of wine carefully so that it wouldn't spill. "So, why are you even wearing that, anyway?"

After Sorey had finished making his dip-dip or whatever, he had suggested that they retreat to what he called his "personal study." The study was, in actuality, just a tiny den located on the second floor of the house. Though it was small, Mikleo found the room positively charming; each of the walls were lined with bookshelves from floor to vaulted ceiling, packed with more books than anyone could hope to read in one lifetime. The only bare sections of wall housed a bay window, complete with a little cushioned nook for reading, and a fireplace built in the same style as the exterior of the house. Thanks to the fire, the room was cozy and warm despite the draft from the window.

The floor space was only large enough to fit a small table and two armchairs, so Mikleo had taken the one that wasn't covered in scraps of paper and what looked suspiciously like broken craft blades. Sorey had busied himself with cleaning off the second chair (by shoving all the paper and shattered razor blades into the window seat), but once he finished, he turned to Mikleo, wearing another of his too-exaggerated-to-be-legitimate pouts.

"Who doesn't like pajamas?"

Mikleo sipped his wine, struggling to keep his face straight. "I never said I don't like them," he corrected. "I'm just curious."

Sorey groaned, adjusted his headband, and then flopped down into the other chair. "It's kinda embarrassing, but it's a tradition of ours."

"Nobody else is wearing them."

"Because they _suck_ ," Sorey insisted. "Melody always bails, but this is the first time in a while that Cynthia's left me hanging. I feel ridiculous, but if I change into something else, that'll just be admitting defeat. I don't wanna deal with everyone teasing me for the rest of the night.

"Is it usually just you three, then?"

"Well..." Sorey picked up his mug of hot cocoa from the table, though he did not drink from it, instead focusing his gaze down at the marshmallows that hadn't yet melted. "I don't know how much of everything you heard from my brother. I don't want to mess up and tell you something he hasn't, yet."

"To be fair, there's a lot he probably should have told me by now."

Sorey turned to face Mikleo again, a small, genuine frown set on his face. That was the exact moment Mikleo realized just how _green_ his eyes were, shining vibrantly in the yellow-orange glow from the fire, so unfathomably deep that he had to swallow in order to speak again.

"You don't have to worry. Go ahead and tell me."

After a small pause to consider it, Sorey nodded and leaned his head sideways against the back of the chair. "Well, my parents actually adopted me when I was really young," he explained. "My biological mother was a family friend; she passed away very suddenly, so my godparents took me in. Everyone panicked because it was right around Christmastime, and there was going to be another kid at the family gathering. But, the thing is, they had no idea what kind of toys I'd like, or anything like that, so everyone went out and tried to pick stuff out without consulting each other. In the end, I think I got about ten sets of pajamas that year?"

Mikleo set his wine on the table, afraid he would drop it with how hard his hands were shaking with suppressed laughter. "Oh no!"

"Oh yeah." Sorey closed his too-green eyes, letting out a content little sigh. "Everyone felt really bad, but it was also super funny, so it's been a thing every year since then. My parents always made my siblings wear their pajamas, too, so I'd be more comfortable. Now, every Christmas Eve, when the whole family gets together, I have to wear the most ridiculous set from the previous year."

"Then why aren't those jerks wearing them? What about solidarity?"

Sorey opened his eyes and flinched the tiniest bit. "Well, when mom and dad died, they all kind of stopped caring," he said, much more quietly this time. "They were all old enough to move out and focus on other stuff, anyway, while I got sent out here to live with Gramps. He's the one who encouraged me to keep it up all this time, and they eventually came back around just a few years ago."

Mikleo wished his boots weren't downstairs so that he could shove one right in his mouth. His fiancé had never liked talking about his family life, especially his deceased parents – he should have known better than to pry. "I-I'm really sorry! I didn't realize –"

"Hey, it's okay," Sorey assured him, clearly forcing another bright smile onto his face. "I know the others get really upset, but I don't mind talking about it. I was really young when it happened, so I honestly don't remember all that much. I guess it's easier for me in that regard."

Mikleo couldn't imagine how the loss of his parents couldn't have affected the guy, but he also desperately needed to change the subject before any further memories of his own late mother came to surface. He took another heavy gulp of wine, racking his brain for _literally_ any other topic, but he found himself at a loss yet again. Inwardly, he cursed his betrothed for putting him into such an awkward situation, while simultaneously throwing every silent apology he could muster in Sorey's direction, hoping he wouldn't take the quietness to mean he wasn't interested.

He lowered his glass just a tad so that he could peer over the top, trying to read Sorey's face for any signs of discomfort. Sorey, however, looked anything but bothered, gazing down at his too-hot cocoa with the kind of fondness most people reserved for small kittens or puppies. The sight brought another little smile to Mikleo's lips, ruining his best efforts to maybe _not_ spill the wine all over his cream-colored sweater. Thankfully, he only lost a few drops, just enough to draw an involuntary noise of displeasure from deep in his throat as he rushed to put the glass down on the side table. Using a combination of his fist and his tongue, he wiped the mess from the sides of his mouth and his chin.

_Please don't let him have seen that._

A quick glance to his side told Mikleo that Sorey had, in fact, seen every little bit of his fumble, but at least he was trying to hide the mischief in his eyes, keeping his gaze locked down at the mug in his hands.

That happened to be the moment Mikleo realized his companion's ears were pierced. He could just make out a pair of silver conch rings, one in each ear, that had been hidden by the enormous amount of white fluff from his headband until moments ago. The emerald gemstones were just like Sorey's eyes in how they refracted the warmer tones of the firelight, shining brightly against the otherwise drab backsplash of the study.

Sorey finally chanced a peek at him, too, and immediately sat up straight, looking a bit worried. "Did I say something wrong?" he asked, snapping Mikleo out of his thoughts once more.

Mikleo wanted to sink out of his chair, having been caught staring so blatantly, but he, too, righted his posture and brushed the back of his hand against his mouth for good measure. "N-no, of course not!" he lied, very poorly. "I was just thinking."

"About your mom?"

Unable to come up with a not-creepy excuse, Mikleo nodded.

"I'm sorry. I didn't really think before I brought all that up." Sorey sighed and put his cocoa aside. "I know I should be more tactful; it's just really hard for me to relate, sometimes, with how long ago everything happened. I must sound like a real jerk."

"You don't," Mikleo assured him. Truth be told, he really didn't want to be having this conversation, but if it meant assuaging Sorey's guilt and doubt, he would swallow his feelings and push through. "I was just really close with her, is all. I spent more than twenty years living in a cramped little one-bedroom apartment with her, and then one day she was just... gone. It's hard to adjust when you've lived your entire life with someone like that."

"That's how I feel about Gramps." Sorey's voice almost cracked, but Mikleo pretended not to hear the fluctuation in his tone. "My parents were great, from what I remember of them, but he's the one who really raised me. He sure did have to put up with a _lot_ of dumb stuff all those years."

"I know what you mean. I don't know how Mom didn't slap me silly sometimes. I was the _worst_ when I was a teenager, always back-talking when she'd try to set me straight."

Sorey's shoulders shook with laughter that didn't reach his lips. "I don't think I went through a sassy phase with Gramps, but it was _way_ too easy to sneak out of this place. I think I spent more nights in the forest out back than I ever did in my bedroom. I'd come home and find him waiting, absolutely _furious_ with me, but I never did think to stop."

"Yeah," Mikleo said through a sigh, drawing the word out needlessly long. "I was a shit, but at least I never snuck out."

Sorey actually did laugh this time, loud and full of the same energy he'd shown before. "Hey, lay off! I wasn't actually doing anything bad!"

"No secret romantic affairs?" Mikleo couldn't help but tease, taking comfort once again in Sorey's contagious laughter.

"No way!" Sorey covered his face with both hands, trying (and failing) to hide the color that rose to his cheeks.

"Then what were you doing sneaking out?"

"I built a treehouse!" Though his voice was muffled by his palms, Mikleo had no trouble making out what he said. "He only figured it out when he found the extension cords I stole from the garage stretched all the way across the back yard and down past the treeline. I had a pretty sweet setup, too! A nice lamp, portable heater, and _so many books._ It was basically heaven."

"Sounds like a fire hazard, actually."

"Well, maybe." Sorey peeked out from between two of his fingers, his blush still evident by how red his ears had become. "You're supposed to be taking my side here, though. _Solidarity_ or whatever."

"Yeah, okay," Mikleo agreed, though he was sure to roll his eyes as dramatically as possible. "I'll pass on the treehouse deathtrap, but as a bookworm, myself, I have to admit _this_ room is pretty awesome."

Sorey's hands fell to his lap, exposing yet another bright smile even though he was still as red as a tomato. "You really think so? It used to be just a storage room, but when I got accepted at Ladylake U, Gramps decided I should use it as my study. We built the shelves together and everything!"

"That's awesome! I'd love to just hang out in here and read forever."

"Then knock yourself out!" With that, Sorey took to his feet, leaving his untouched mug of cocoa sitting on the side table. "I should probably go make sure nobody's ransacking the kitchen. I'll be back in just a few, but in the meantime, feel free to take a look around!"

As excited as he was to explore the miniature library, Mikleo felt a strong rush of disappointment the moment Sorey closed the door behind himself.

 

* * *

 

Sorey made it about a quarter of the way down the staircase before he succumbed to the urge to sit down, using one of the stairs as a seat. His face was still burning so much that it had grown unbearable between the heavy fleece of his pajamas and the fire that had been blazing on the hearth. He'd been fighting off a growing panic ever since his aunts had suggested reuniting the whole family for the first time since his grandfather's death – and doubly so, since they had strong-armed him into hosting the event without so much as asking if he would mind.

He hadn't bothered with decorating the house for the holiday over the last few years. The extra bedrooms had long since become storage for all the stuff he couldn't bear looking at anymore – family photos and heirlooms, mostly, that had lost their charm when he'd lost his mentor and best friend. He'd been the one tasked with sorting the house after the funeral; he'd been the one stuck out in Elysia when nobody had bothered to visit; and, more recently, he was the one who'd had to sort everything anew, boxing trinkets and photos that brought tears to his eyes just to clear the spare rooms for family he didn't particularly want to see right now.

At least he'd forced himself to dig through the garage for all the Christmas lights and decorations. The job had been rushed, for sure, but Gramps would have been proud of his perseverance.

But now, this. Mikleo. His brother's fiancé.

The most beautiful person he'd ever met, the only one who'd ever made him feel _so_ _dumb_ and, at the same time, so _comfortable_ and _right._

He was crushing on his future brother-in-law. He'd never had to deal with something like this before.

Sorey covered his face again, even though there was nobody else there to see this time. The way his heart had started to race when he'd caught Mikleo staring at him – not with disdain, as he'd pretended to see, but with wide, beautiful, perfect, stupid eyes that made him want to laugh and cry and throw up all at the same time. For the first time since his arrival, Mikleo had looked relaxed, or happy, even. The sight had taken his breath away and left him melting into a puddle of whatever his current state even _was._

But also, he was pissed off. Really, really pissed off.

Mikleo wasn't happy about _any_ of this. That much was plain to see, even though he'd barely known him for an hour. How could Mason have done such a thing, forcing him to meet a house full of strangers – _drunk_ strangers, mostly, all of whom were still fostering the wounds from their loss, and had only heard of their engagement last week?

Something was off about that, but he didn't really want to focus on why, or what it meant for the near future. He'd have to have a serious talk with his brother, if and when he decided to show up. For now, he could just sit here on the stairs and try not to hyperventilate for a few minutes. Then it would be back to the study – back to charming, ethereal Mikleo, who deserved so much better than hiding in his dusty old library through this nightmare of a party.

After a few minutes of sitting there, listening to his cousins' shouts echoing from the rafters, he finally got to his feet and trudged the rest of the way down the stairs, pushing his way through the doors into the kitchen. On the opposite side of the room, the other set of doors was swinging; obviously, someone had decided to take advantage of his absence, ducking out in the nick of time.

With a sigh, Sorey opened the fridge to make sure everything was still intact, preparing himself for the worst. Somehow, the culprit hadn't touched any of the food he'd prepared for the next day or any of the desserts for after that. Another tray of the jello shots he'd made at his sisters' behest was missing, but aside from that, everything else was safe – including the two large jugs of eggnog he'd prepared earlier that afternoon.

He grabbed both and carried them over to the only spare counter in the room before fetching an enormous, heavy punch bowl from its home in the pantry. Muttering something to himself about ungrateful jerks, he checked the bottle for the label he'd written – _spiked_ – and then poured the contents into the bowl, finishing just as Melody strolled in from the den.

"Out, please," he grumbled, searching the dish rack for his grater.

"Our wonderful host," she shot back, not missing a beat. "We were wondering where you'd disappeared to."

"Been doing some things."

"Taking care of our guest?"

Sorey gave up on evicting her, and nodded instead.

"Good. He looked about ready to pass out when we let him in." Melody leaned against the refrigerator door with her arms crossed, staring at him in the way she usually did when she was worried about something, but didn't want him to know. "Total shocker, huh?"

"Yeah. He doesn't seem like Mason's type at all." Sorey poured himself a glass of eggnog from the second bottle, which, to his chagrin, was labeled _virgin_ in Cynthia's handwriting. Just seeing the word reminded him of his predicament (or, his huge ridiculous schoolboy-level crush on a man who was about to be married). That, combined with his complete lack of experience with relationships in general and the jealousy and anger that kept threatening to commandeer his rationale, made the mere mention of his brother's name unbearable.

Melody hummed an indistinguishable tune, low and flat as she seemed to weigh his words. Sorey did not know how to respond, nor did he really want to, so he instead focused on grating the remainder of the nutmeg he'd purchased earlier that week, using a good deal more force than necessary.

"Dude, are you okay?"

Sorey tried not to let his emotional fervor show, but he was obviously as bad at that as he was at cooking real-person food – which was saying something. "I'm fine."

"You've never been a good liar." Melody frowned and crossed her arms, fixing him with a gaze that would have looked stern if she hadn't been drinking most of the day. "Your face is all red, and – Watch it! You're going to hurt yourself!"

He stopped grating, only to find that she was right. One or two more passes would have ruined all his hard work with a healthy dose of finger bits. With a heavy sigh, he dropped the tiny remainder of the nutmeg and the grater on the counter, closing his eyes in an effort to ground himself. He only opened them when he felt a tugging at his sleeve, turning to find that his sister had circled the island to stand at his side.

"What's gotten into you, Sorey?"

 _I want to go home_ , he wanted to say, but that didn't really make any sense, considering they were at his house. Instead, he bumped his shoulder against hers, thanking her for her concern without having to say it aloud. "I'm just tired, is all."

"Why don't you go relax with what's-his-face, then? Let me handle the rest."

"No, it's okay." He nodded, if only to reassure himself. "I don't want to be mopping up eggs and milk fat off my floor for the next two weeks when you drop this."

The playful jab seemed to restore her mood, at least. "You're a real jerk when you want to be, you know?"

"I know."

In the end, he compromised, letting her carry a tray of snacks while he heaved the enormous punch bowl into the den. His family was much too preoccupied by the arrival of more new, exciting alcohol to pay much mind when he slinked back upstairs with his own glass, leaving them to yet another round of party games – this time, trivia, apparently, which meant they would _all_ be puking in the garden by nine o' clock.

He was proud of himself for making it as far as the study door before his nerves seized again, freezing him in place before he could knock to announce his return. From the other side of the door, he could just make out the sounds of shuffling paper and a hushed voice; Mikleo was probably on the phone, and he didn't want to interrupt. As quietly as he could manage, he opened the door, just enough that he could peek inside.

As it turned out, Mikleo was not on the phone. Instead, he was perched near the bay window, pulling a decent Captain Morgan impression as he somehow balanced a stack of three or four encyclopedia-sized books on his knee. Sorey couldn't help the stupid grin that spread across his face when he realized that Mikleo, probably _beyond_ tipsy, was reading aloud to himself. He was _adorable._ Unfortunately, the little chuckle that escaped him alerted the man to his presence.

If he was startled, he did not show it, instead opting to hold up the book he'd been reading so that Sorey could read the title. It was one of his college textbooks, undoubtedly filled with countless notes scribbled in the margins, but Mikleo was regarding it as if he'd found some sort of ancient treasure instead of a heap of garbage. "Anthropology?!"

"Archeology," he corrected, grateful for how quickly his unease melted at the sight. "I'll be going back for my doctorate next year."

"I'm so jealous!" Mikleo abandoned his position and carted his armful of books over to the chairs, showing a surprising amount of grace for someone who had downed an entire bottle of wine in less than an hour. "I was actually aiming for Ladylake back in high school, myself," he explained as he gingerly stacked the books next to the cocoa Sorey had abandoned on the table. "I heard their teaching staff had a lot of field experience, so I was kinda bummed out when..." Mikleo paused, then, his mouth still open as if he were trying to speak. His eyebrows scrunched together and hid beneath his fringe, but even so, Sorey recognized the guilt in his expression immediately.

"It's okay," he assured. Careful not to spill any of his eggnog on the floor, he finally stepped into the room, using his back to push the door closed behind him. "I'd like to hear about it, if you're up for it."

Mikleo visibly relaxed, his shoulders sinking beneath his heavy sweater. "I guess we're gonna keep coming full circle." His voice was a great deal quieter, but without the echoed noise in the hall, Sorey could hear him perfectly. They each settled into their respective seats as Mikleo chewed his bottom lip, likely considering what to say. After they were comfortable, he finally spoke, his voice even and neutral. "Right up until my mom died, I was taking entry-level courses at the community college in my hometown, trying to save up money so that I could afford to live over here. Things got so messed up that I dropped it all, but still... It's a fascinating subject."

Something in Sorey's heart shattered at the same time something else tried to burst out of his chest. "It really is," was all he could say. This knowledge was dangerous in his current condition. He really didn't need a reason to like Mikleo beyond his flowing hair or his flawless skin or his cute little laugh; knowing that they actually had something in common just made him want to jump out the window even more than before.

As if sensing how uncomfortable he'd become, Mikleo flashed him another smile, likely trying to console him. "Your notes, though! They're so detailed! There's no way you'll have any trouble with your doctorate courses."

"I hope you're right." Hoping to distract himself from his wandering thoughts, Sorey tested his cocoa with a finger; still too hot to drink. But, then again, that's why he'd brought the eggnog. He'd even gone through the trouble of simmering his own mix of brandy and rum for the concoction, as he'd long since accepted his role as designated driver in case of emergency (like the time Ed had tried to ride the bannister down the stairs a few years back). Even so, the taste was a bit stronger than he'd anticipated, and he nearly choked in his surprise.

Instead of offering an ounce of compassion, Mikleo decided to laugh in his face.

Sorey's fate was sealed. This officially meant that somehow, in the short time they'd known each other, they had managed to become friends.

Once he managed to calm himself for the most part, Mikleo sank down in his chair. "I can smell that from here," he said between sharp intakes of breath. "I _hate_ eggnog."

"That's probably why I didn't bring you any," Sorey retorted, even though he had actually had every intention of snagging him a glass from the punch bowl before his family set in like a pack of wild scavengers. Now, he was glad that he hadn't.

"I wouldn't drink brandy if it were the last liquid on the face of this planet."

Normally, he wouldn't, either, but it honestly didn't taste too bad with the nutmeg and cream, especially after he'd boiled the bite of the alcohol out of it. "Eh. I've drank worse."

"I don't believe you."

"Hey, it's not I could get a job this far away from the rest of humanity. I've done some pretty weird stuff for pocket change."

Sorey realized exactly what he'd said just a moment too late. By the time he could even think of correcting his choice of words, Mikleo's face had turned a brilliant shade of crimson that would have put shame to all the lights he'd strung from the rooftop. He mentally slapped himself, trying to figure out what in the _hell_ he could possibly say to save himself, but there simply was nothing. One, two, three seconds passed before Mikleo erupted into a fit of outrageous laughter, pounding the armrests of his chair with his fists.

Despite his embarrassment, something about the display of unbridled mirth made his chest feel all weird again. He propped his chin up, elbow on his own armrest, and waited for the fit to subside, trying not to smile too broadly lest he give himself away.

"You're too much," Mikleo wheezed, once he'd managed to calm down again. "Thank you for that, really. I needed it."

"Any time, I guess."

"I think I'm getting too hot, though. Does the window open?"

 _You were already too hot._ Sorey bit the inside of his cheek to keep his face from showing any of his growing discomfort. "Not right now. I broke the hinge last summer and haven't gotten around to fixing it. I could show you out back, though, if you'd like?"

And so, just minutes after trudging up the stairs, Sorey padded back down them, leading Mikleo along like some sort of field trip supervisor watching over a large, kind-of-drunk kindergartener. He pressed a finger to his lips, signaling for his companion to remain silent as they crept past the kitchen doorway, down a long, dark hallway, past the set of stairs that led to the basement, and then, finally, through the back door. The deck was another one of his projects from many summers ago, designed by his grandfather and built from scratch in their back yard. It gave a clear view of most of the property, including the garden, which was mostly dead around this time of year; however, he'd taken the time to string icy blue lights along every trellis, hoping to cover up the evidence of just how badly he'd been neglecting the place over the last few years.

If Mikleo took notice of any of the weeds or overgrown grass, he made no show of it. In fact, he looked positively entranced by the sight, leaning against the railing with his hands clasped near his heart. Standing there, illuminated in the artificial blue glow as a flurry of fresh, new snowflakes danced around him, Mikleo looked so angelic that Sorey had to swallow the tightness in his throat, begging himself to think about something, anything else.

"I forgot how much I love all the lights this time of year. But this... It's beautiful, Sorey."

Glad for the distraction, he stared down at his handiwork, a new sense of pride welling in his chest. "You really think so?"

"I thought the front yard was nice, but you really outdid yourself back here. It's perfect."

If only he could convince Mikleo to stand on his back porch and feed him compliments until the end of time. "Thanks. I really appreciate it."

Mikleo turned away from the lights, snowflakes in his hair, and stole every last bit of his breath. "No, thank _you_ , Sorey. For this. For everything tonight. I was so certain this would be a giant disaster, and I'm sure it would have been if you weren't here to be such a gracious host. Really, thank you."

Sorey could feel himself trembling, but he told himself it was simply because of the cold, never mind the heavy fleece covering most of his body. "A-anytime," he managed. "I mean, I'm sorry it's not more fun, but –"

"If you want fun, we can pick a topic from one of your textbooks and argue about it for the rest of the night."

He couldn't imagine a debate going much in his favor in his current state, but he still managed a little nod. The look Mikleo gave him in return nearly melted him straight through the deck.

By the end of the night, he would have to return Mikleo's thanks and let him know how much his presence had changed the night for the better, too. But that could wait until after their return to the study, when the gentle snowfall had turned into a winter storm, or maybe after they spent the better part of two hours going back and forth on whether or not the Rolance government actually had any claim to the relics some explorers had unearthed near its more mountainous regions early last year. Or maybe after midnight, when they finally realized their followup conversation had dragged on far longer than either of them had anticipated – after Mikleo, long since sober, realized that his betrothed still hadn't shown up to the party.

 

* * *

 

Mikleo combed through his belongings, desperately searching for his phone. He must have left it in his jacket, or maybe it had slipped out of his pocket elsewhere in the enormous house, but then again, he'd checked all the places he'd been and hadn't yet managed to find it. With a frustrated groan, he let himself sink to the floor, leaning against the back of the armchair that had been his home for most of the night. What if something had happened? What if his entire future was crashing down around him even worse than he'd thought it was?

His mind was muddled with a plethora of scenarios he really didn't want to consider. Thankfully, after a ten minute disappearance, Sorey burst through the door, cradling a familiar white phone case in his hands. "Is this it?" he asked, holding his hands out so that he could see.

"Thank _god._ " He took the phone and immediately unlocked the screen, only to confirm his own suspicions: seventy-some new text messages from his fiancé and Edna, and twenty-five missed calls, all within the span of the last three hours. Only one of the calls was from Edna, but she was not responsible for a single one of the fifteen voicemails he'd been left. "Shit."

Sorey, who had been just as worried at his brother's mysterious absence, looked more like a big, lost white puppy than he did a polar bear. "What's going on? Where is he?"

"I need – I need a minute, if you don't mind?"

He nodded, dejectedly, before vacating the room once more, leaving Mikleo alone in the silence. Once the sound of his footsteps faded down the hall, he pressed play on the first voicemail, trying to prepare himself for the wost.

_Hey, Mik, I made it to Hyland! My flight made it just before the storm hit. I hope you're having fun with the family! Tell everyone I said hi if you get this before I get there. Love you!_

Beep.

_Hey again! The snow's falling like crazy right now! It's piled so high in some places that my driver's had to take about ten detours already. I'm gonna be late, but don't worry! I'll be there soon! Love you!_

Beep.

_Hey, love. I hope everything's all right, and that you're having a good time. It's not like you to not check your phone like this! My ETA is about half an hour, now. Make sure they leave me some food! I'm basically starving! See you soon._

Beep.

_Mikleo, you need to pick up your phone. I know you're probably pissed off at me for ditching you today, but I need you to understand that it wasn't my fault. Are you even in Ladylake right now, or were you just pretending so we can fight about it later? Either way, the way you left my family hanging was really childish. Seriously. Call me._

Beep.

_This isn't funny anymore. Acting out like this has not only ruined my holiday, but my family's as well. Everyone was so excited to finally meet you, and now we're all sitting here wondering if you're even okay. At least send me a text and let me know you're not stuck out in this blizzard. Hurry up._

Beep.

_Mikleo, I called the airline. I know you're in Ladylake, and there's a new cab fare charged on my card. Are you in a hotel or something? Were you really that upset at the prospect of meeting my family? I thought you didn't even have the money to pay your electricity bill, or was that a lie, too? You know what? Don't even bother calling. I'm over it. We'll talk the next time I'm in Camlann. Enjoy your flight back._

Beep.

_Seriously, this is fucked up, even for you. I hope you're happy._

Beep.

_Just so you know, my brothers were going to offer to buy your property so that you wouldn't have to worry about it anymore. I don't know why you haven't just burned the place to the ground and made out with the insurance money, but I guess that's not my call – so much for compromise. Just know, you'd get a hell of a lot more than it's worth. But if you're content with living in the past, more power to you. I'm not going to ruin my future waiting around for someone who can't get over his mommy. She's been dead like six years. Grow the fuck up. And don't think you're keeping that ring; just mail it if you're not gonna man up and face me._

Mikleo didn't bother listening to the remaining messages. He pressed stop on his phone screen and let his hand drop his phone to the ground, trying to catch up with his racing thoughts as he tried to decipher what was going on.

According to the messages, his fiancé had arrived several hours ago. Was he here? Had he been here all along? Had Cynthia and Melody not had the foresight to let either him or Sorey know? He, himself, had been here all night – that much was for certain.

That knowledge did nothing to stop the immediate, intense pain in his chest, the sting in his eyes, nor the miserable noise that made its way out of his mouth seconds later. While they didn't make much sense, his fiancé's words were razor-sharp, cutting him down to shreds just like that – just like they always did, every time he dared to be less than perfect.

Even if they managed to clear up the misunderstanding, he'd known for a while now that they were too different to make things last. He'd only been so invested because everything else had been falling apart for so long that he'd latched on to the first person to pay him any mind – or so Edna had warned him, at least a year ago, long before he'd accepted the proposal.

She'd also been right with her suspicions all along. While his mother's shop had admittedly fallen into disrepair over the years since her passing, it was located on one of the busiest streets in downtown Camlann – and was worth ten times more than she'd paid for it. His fiancé was not the first real estate investor who'd been interested in taking it off his hands, but he'd thought their relationship was based on mutual growth, not... this.

He drew his knees up and hid his face behind them, trying, and subsequently failing, to calm himself. Moments later, he heard the door open, this time without any of Sorey's former hesitation.

"Mikleo! What's going on? What's wrong? Is he okay?"

"I don't know." His voice came out as more of a whimper than anything else, but he couldn't really bring himself to care. "I need to go."

He couldn't see through his tears, but a shuffling sound met his ears, followed by the unmistakable beep between voicemail messages. Sorey had taken his phone and put it on speaker, apparently too caught up in his own concern to worry much about respecting the boundary he was crossing.

As the last message replayed from the beginning, Mikleo shrank further and further behind his knees, praying that he would just disappear and never have to face Sorey or his brother (or anyone else, really) ever again. After another beep signaled the start of the next message after that, Sorey at least had the decency to stop the playback.

An uncomfortable silence filled the room, sapping whatever residual happiness remained from their hours of animated laughter. When something touched his knee, Mikleo mustered his last bit of willpower, peering up into those green eyes, expecting to find some trace of anger or resentment on Sorey's face. He did not anticipate the expression he wore instead, tender and caring and, despite the very clear message he'd heard, definitely concerned.

"Mikleo. Who was that?" There was a trembling in his voice that hadn't been there before. "Y-you can't be serious, I mean, he can't, I mean – _how dare he_ talk to you like that?"

Mikleo sniffled and tried to wipe his eyes on his jeans, but he was only half successful. "It's fine," he lied. "I'm fine. It's okay. I'll just go."

"Please, don't. Seriously – who was that?"

"Don't you recognize your brother's voice?"

"That's not Mason's voice, Mikleo."

A new surge of panic washed over him, racing through his veins faster than he could even process the sensation. "Who's Mason?"

Time came crashing to a halt. Sorey stared at him. He stared at Sorey.

"Mason is my older brother."

As the realization dawned on him, an unspeakable sense of dread coiled its way around his heart and down his spine. "That's not... my fiancé's name."

 

* * *

 

Half an hour later, Mikleo sat huddled up in the passenger's seat of Sorey's car, listening to nothing but the white noise of the engine idle while Sorey remained inside the house, "writing a note," or so he'd said. He figured he was probably explaining the situation to his family before he took off down the mountain with a stranger in the middle of a snowstorm, despite his request to keep the whole thing silent – not that his dignity really mattered in this situation; it wasn't like he'd be seeing them again.

Through a short exchange involving Edna breaking into his apartment back home, Mikleo had managed to deduce exactly what had happened. The address his fiancé – or, rather, his now-ex-fiancé – had sent him via text message the previous day didn't match up with what he'd written in his address book several months ago. The house number was correct, but the difference between street and lane in this instance meant that he had wound up on the exact opposite side of Ladylake, in a completely different subdivision than the one he was supposed to have reached. This entire disastrous mix-up wouldn't have happened if his ex had simply taken the time to double-check the address, but no – this was all his fault, like usual.

Before long, Sorey joined him in the car, still wearing his stupid pajamas instead of a proper winter coat. "You ready?" he asked, clearly struggling to keep his tone light and jovial.

Mikleo could barely manage a nod without losing it again, simply unable to focus on anything but the maelstrom in his mind. Without another word, Sorey pulled the car out of the garage and into the fresh blanket of snow that covered the driveway and street. The tire tracks Mikleo had seen earlier were long since covered, leaving him with no way to gauge their progress, so he closed his eyes and willed himself to just sleep until they made it to his actual former-future-brother-in-law's house, where he would plead his case in exchange for somewhere to sleep until the date of his return flight.

Maybe things would work out.

Even if he really didn't want them to, in this case.

Overcome by a fresh wave of emotion, he was able to pass off the first few sobs as regular I-spent-too-much-time-outside sniffles, but by the time the tears started pouring over his cheeks, he knew there was no way Sorey would believe his pitiful excuse. He hoped that he would get it out and over with by the time they made it to their destination, so he twisted in his seat to face the passenger window and buried his face in his arms. Above all else, his last request for the night was that he wouldn't have the ugliest cry in history in front of the man who'd made him feel, if only for a few hours, that things were going to be all right.

But they weren't actually going to be all right, and he knew that. Now that he'd refused the sale of his home, sent via strongly-worded text message, his ex would likely dump him on the curb, stranding him in a foreign country without anywhere to sleep until his flight home next week. His shop wouldn't be opening next spring, and he would be evicted from his tiny apartment – the one he'd shared with his mother right up until her death, one of the very few parts of her that he hadn't lost in the shitstorm that had been his entire life. Sure, he could always stay with Edna; he wasn't worried about being homeless. But the fact that he'd managed to screw up his mother's dream this badly, on top of ruining the relationship he'd been working so, so hard on? That was much harder to handle.

He wasn't certain for how long he'd been bawling when Sorey finally pulled the car to a stop. Silence pervaded the air in place of the engine's comforting purr, and without the sound to stifle his noisy sobbing, Mikleo was suddenly aware of just how loud he was being. He forced himself to swallow his next few sobs, trying his best to control his breathing long enough to speak. "Are we there already?"

"No. We're just outside Elysia. I wanted to make sure you'd be all right, so I drove around the block a few times first."

The simultaneous waves of relief and discomfort were enough to make him nauseous all over again. "Then why did you stop?"

"Because you're not okay, and I'm not okay with that."

Mikleo dried his face on the arms of his sweater, even though the tremors that ran deep through his shoulders warned him that he was far from done with the breakdown. He sat up straight and, figuring he owed Sorey at least some modicum of respect, tried to face him. The expression on Sorey's face was identical to the one he'd been wearing when he'd heard Mikleo's voicemail before. His eyebrows were drawn together, but there was no trace of anger or blame in his eyes; they radiated the same warmth and kindness they had since Mikleo had caught him waist-deep in the fridge.

The tenderness with which Sorey was regarding him made his heart pound like mad. Not once, not even in the throes of passion, had any of his past lovers made him feel so profoundly _safe_ in the way that this man could with just a glance. Mikleo felt open, exposed – there was no way he could lie right now, not after how many secrets they'd already shared during their hours cozied up together in the study. Besides, the end of the car ride would likely be the end of their friendship. He had no reason not to be honest.

"You're right. I'm not okay."

Sorey's hand appeared on the console, palm facing upward, as he gave a reassuring little smile. "Wanna talk about it?"

Mikleo caved immediately. He took Sorey's hand in his own, slowly threading their fingers together. "Not really," he admitted, "but ignoring it won't make it go away anymore."

"To be completely honest, I'm in no hurry to get home, so take all the time you need." Sorey leaned his seat backward, but did not let go of his hand. "The stars are really nice out here, anyway. Well, I mean, they would be, if it wasn't snowing so hard."

He was probably right about that. Mikleo leaned his head back and stared up at the sky through the car's moon roof, realizing for the first time that they were in the parking lot of the sketchy, probably-haunted gas station he had passed on his way into Elysia. The distinct lack of street lights, which had initially concerned him, was now a blessing; the clouds were almost glowing from the city lights so far below, swirling with colors he'd never seen in the night sky. With the towering evergreens surrounding the vista, he felt truly cut off from the rest of the world – all except for Sorey, who still wore a patient smile on his lips when he finally looked back over at him.

"I'm gonna lose my home." The words came spilling out before he could think twice. Sorey's smile faltered the tiniest bit, but he didn't interrupt. "I grew up in this little apartment above my mom's cafe – well, cafe isn't the right word. It was like a coffee shop, bakery, and ice cream parlor all in one. We moved out to Camlann right before I was born, so I've been living there my entire life. When Mom died, I took over ownership of the business, and the deed rolled into my name, so I never left.

"But I'm terrible at baking, and the espresso machine broke and was too expensive to replace, so I just run an ice cream shop during the warmer months. It isn't the _best_ money in the world, but it works, and I mean... I love the place so much. I usually make enough to pay the property taxes and all my bills, but the cooler weather last year cost me all of my savings."

Mikleo quickly turned his gaze back up at the clouds when he saw the crestfallen look on Sorey's face.

"But my fiance... my real one, not your brother, obviously... He wanted me to meet with his family tonight because they've got a lot of say in the real estate market in the towns near Camlann. Instead of inviting me to a family dinner, he was going to get me drunk so I would go ahead and sign a bunch of paperwork and sell them the place. It's in a good location, after all, down in the older part of town, and he's been trying to get me to do this for ages. I just got my hopes up this time because I needed something to look forward to, and it turns out..."

"Mikleo." His name was a whisper on Sorey's breath, hardly carrying the distance between them, but Mikleo flinched as if it had been shouted into his ear. "I'm so sorry, I... That's so awful. How could anyone do something like that?"

"Seems to be about the norm for people anymore." Mikleo tried to force a short laugh, but it sounded more like a cough with how tight his throat felt. "They do things like that, or they show up and crash strangers' family gatherings, eating all their food and –"

"Oh shut _up,_ you weirdo!" Sorey was the one who laughed this time, but instead of the hollow noise Mikleo had managed, it sounded real and hearty in all the ways he wanted to feel. "You know you didn't bother anyone there! _Especially_ not me."

"I'm completely mortified," he admitted, feeling the warmth slowly creeping back into his body – mostly from the hand that was still firmly entwined with his own. "Seriously, how could any of this have happened? What are the odds we didn't figure it out sooner?"

"I'm not going to complain about it! I mean, I got to meet you, after all. That's gotta fit the definition of 'Christmas Miracle,' yeah?"

Mikleo's breath hitched in his throat. Sorey seemed to notice that he'd said something inappropriate once again; the hand at his left side sent his seat rocketing straight back upward. He went too far and wound up scrunched against the steering wheel for a moment before he was able to straighten himself back up, eyes wide and shimmering brilliantly even though his car was trying to beat the shit out of him. The caught breath immediately found itself exhausted in the roar of genuine laughter that tore its way out of Mikleo's chest, loud and obnoxious and punctuated by undignified snorting.

"That was the corniest thing I've ever heard in my _entire life_ ," he wheezed between what few precious breaths of air he could suck in. "I spent this whole night wondering how someone like you could be stuck living all by yourself in the middle of nowhere – and _that right there_ has _got_ to be it! Are you always so cheesy?"

"You are _so mean_ ," Sorey shot back. He pulled his hand away from Mikleo's at long last so that he could cross his arms over his chest in another exaggerated display, pouting yet again.

"You brought me out here to look at the sky, you nerd!"

"I thought it would make you feel better!"

"And it did! But that doesn't mean you aren't a _hopeless_ romantic!"

Mikleo gazed across the small distance between them, chest rising and falling with each labored breath as he took in Sorey, who was in a similar state from trying to hold back the giant grin on his face. He realized, in that moment, that this, too, was something new – the way his chest constricted when their eyes met was not the same as the anxiety that had danced at the edges of his mind during past relationships. Sorey's smile had a kind of warmth to it that he hadn't encountered since his apartment had stopped feeling like home.

"Hey... Sorey?"

"Yeah, Mikleo?"

"I think... it worked."

Sorey scrunched his nose up. "What do you mean?"

"I mean the romantic stuff." Mikleo unbuckled his seatbelt and pulled the strap away from his chest, confident that Sorey had figured it out by the time he was free. "I know I must look like a two-timing scumbag right now, but –"

"You shouldn't care what that jerk has to say about anything."

"I know, but you –"

"You deserve a hell of a lot better than someone who would scream at you like that on the night before Christmas. Technically _on_ Christmas. And I know that we've only known each other, what, six or seven hours? But that much must be pretty obvious if someone like me can figure it out so quickly."

Mikleo felt heat rushing across his face. He had no doubt that, if it were anyone but Sorey, he wouldn't have been able to move forward like he did at that very moment, leaning close until the back of Sorey's head was on the headrest and their lips were pressed together.

Sorey gave a short hum and leaned to the side, deepening the kiss without a moment of hesitation. They stayed like that for a long moment, locked away in their gentle give and take, moving slowly and deliberately, until Mikleo felt something tugging on his hair. He pulled back for a moment, resting his forehead against Sorey's. He was more than pleased to find the dopey grin that was waiting there for him.

"Can I tell you something super embarrassing?" Sorey's verdant eyes glistened as he waited for an answer. Mikleo could sense the tiniest bit of apprehension coming from him after all, despite how readily he'd accepted the kiss; it was evident in the way those fingers had stopped just short of his scalp, twisted beneath his hair tie to keep him from doing it a second time.

Trying to keep the disappointment from showing on his face, he pulled back into his seat. "You couldn't possibly tell me anything worse than all the dumb shit I've done tonight."

"I wouldn't be so sure." Sorey's hand, the one that had fallen from the back of his head upon their separation, found its way back across the distance between them. He gently stroked the side of Mikleo's face with his calloused thumb, tracing the same path his tears had taken minutes before.

Unable to concentrate, Mikleo leaned into the touch, hardly daring to hope for more of – of whatever this even was, but even so, unable to stop himself from yearning for it. "Tell me."

"That might have been my, uhh, first kiss."

"No way."

"Yeah." Sorey looked down, focusing somewhere near the cup holder between them. His ears, though obscured by his ridiculous headband, had turned just as red as the blush that blazed across his face. "I'm not really good at this sort of stuff. You're the first person I've ever really... clicked with?" Though his face was still turned down, he peered up at Mikleo. His eyelashes, every bit as thick and full as the messy mop of hair on his head, halfway obscured his irises, but that didn't stop his gaze from stealing Mikleo's breath away. "So I obviously might not know what I'm talking about, but still, I don't think you should stay with someone who doesn't – _absolutely worship you._ "

"Sorey, I –"

"You can come home with me," Sorey continued, either not noticing his attempt at speech or simply ignoring it. "I mean, I'm gonna be up until dawn making sure all those drunk idiots don't destroy my house, but at least you can get some rest and not have to worry about anything else. I've got, like, five spare bedrooms. Seriously, it wouldn't be any trouble at all. And when I'm done with all the cleanup, if you decide you want to, um, kiss me again? You can."

Mikleo was thoroughly convinced that his brain had short-circuited somewhere around any mention of _worship._ Even so, the words came faster than he could think. "I want to kiss you again _right now._ "

"That's an even better idea."

So that's what he did.

Ten or so minutes later, Sorey had (somehow) managed to climb past the gear shift and right into his lap, but only after an outburst when Mikleo tried to do it first. ("No, wait, your shoes are gonna scuff my leather – don't _laugh!_ Why are you laughing? Shut up! Seriously! Look, I'm still wearing slippers, so I'll just –")

Sorey more than made up for any inexperience with his enthusiasm. Mikleo was captivated by his hands, and the way they moved from his chest, slowly up to the back of his head, where they rested for only a moment before making their way back down. He was intoxicated by his scent – earthy juniper and tantalizing verbena, as grounding as his boundless compassion and as sprightly as the smile that Mikleo found every time he opened his eyes. He was foreign and familiar, overwhelming and delicate, drawing excitement in every way their bodies touched, sparking stars in his vision.

Mikleo knew he should put an end to it before they went too far, but instead, his fingers searched out the zipper that rested at the hollow of Sorey's neck – and pulled. Sorey was clearly startled, but recovered more quickly than he anticipated. With a shy little smile, he shrugged, casting the white fleece of his pajamas down until the sleeves caught at his elbows, leaving his shoulders and chest exposed to the chilly night air. Mikleo stopped pulling the zipper when he reached Sorey's navel, partially because he knew better, even with the heat of passion clawing at him in ways he hadn't felt in years, and partially because Sorey's body was so goddamn perfect that he was pretty sure he would die if he went any further.

"Should I take off the headband?" The question was probably meant to be cheeky, but instead, it sent a rush of _something_ down Mikleo's spine.

"Gods, no," he choked. "You're so damn cute. Leave it on."

If Sorey was embarrassed by the prospect of being adorable, he didn't let it show. Instead, he arched his back ever-so-slightly, puffing out his chest and pushing his hips forward until Mikleo realized that he wasn't the only one getting carried away. For a brief moment, he fumbled with the levers beside his seat, pulling and pushing each one until he he was rewarded with the distinct _fwoosh_ of the seat falling back. Jarred by the sudden movement, Sorey rolled his hips downward, probably trying to steady himself before he landed completely on top of his passenger. He lost his balance, anyway, and caught himself on Mikleo's shoulders, thankfully before their faces collided – but not before the brunt of his weight shifted onto Mikleo's lap.

"Oh, sorry," Sorey mumbled as he tried to correct his position. With one leg now firmly stuck between the seat and the car door, and the other wedged between the other side of the seat and the center console, he didn't make much progress in his attempt to move. What he did accomplish, though, was a kind of undignified wiggle that sent Mikleo's desire peaking to a fever pitch.

"Don't apologize." His own voice was husky and foreign-sounding, but he was finding it hard to care anymore. "I like you right where you are."

Sorey stopped moving, an unreadable expression plastered on his face as he struggled to wrap his mind around what those words meant. Mikleo could tell the exact moment when it dawned on him, just by how unfathomably ashamed of himself he looked. He half expected him to wrench the car door open and make some sort of escape, but, thankfully, another shy little smile crept its way across his face instead.

"You do?" His words were quieter than they had been at any other point during the night, but Mikleo did not miss the way his voice wavered.

"Yeah. But if I'm making you uncomfortable, it's okay to –"

"You're not!" Sorey leaned forward. His hips rose with the movement, sadly releasing Mikleo from the delightful torture he'd inflicted; however, the sudden feeling of his breath puffing against his neck almost made up for it, as did the chaste kiss that was planted just below the angle of his jaw. "You're really not."

After hearing the man's conversational tone all night, he hadn't spared a thought for how low or sultry Sorey's voice could get. It sent shivers down his spine, eliciting a noise that would have left him mortified if anyone else had been present to hear it. At least Sorey appreciated it, judging by the way he nuzzled his way further down into a half-embrace, offering another little hum once he'd made himself comfortable.

"I'm just not sure what I'm doing, is all."

Mikleo moved his hands from Sorey's bare shoulders, lamenting the loss of skin-on-skin contact for only a moment as they traveled past the bunched-up fabric near the small of his back. "Don't worry so much." He considered _not_ taking advantage of the fact that Sorey's ass was completely up in the air. That consideration did not last long. His hands slid down – or up, maybe – until they had cupped what turned out to be a very, very nice ass indeed, hidden from view beneath the bulky fleece.

He almost laughed when he felt the fluffy underside of the pajamas' most _unnecessary_ feature tickle his fingertips, but he did not relinquish his grasp. "I forgot you had a tail!"

Sorey pulled away from the awkward embrace and resumed his former position with his hands splayed across Mikleo's shoulders. This time, however, he was able to shift his weight to his legs, leaving his hips hovering just a few inches away from Mikleo's lap, close enough for his radiant warmth to reach aching skin, but entirely too far away for Mikleo's taste. "My _tail_ is probably my best feature." He spoke in a tone reminiscent of a narrator documenting the traits of some animal or another, but there was no way he didn't mean to put such emphasis on that word.

Using his grip to his advantage, Mikleo pushed his hips upward, earning a pleased groan from his companion. "It is pretty nice, I guess," he teased. "Hard to tell with these dumbass pajamas covering it, though."

For a moment, he worried that he'd finally managed to break Sorey, until a shaky laugh met his ears. "You can take them off me, if you want."

Mikleo chewed his bottom lip in a desperate attempt to distract himself from the welling desire in the pit of his stomach. "Take them off yourself," he instructed. "I want to watch."

Sorey leaned backward, taking his hands with him as he settled his weight onto Mikleo's lap once more. He looked sort of like he wanted to die. Mikleo could entirely relate, but that did not mean that he didn't enjoy every hesitant scrunch of his companion's eyebrows, or every twitch of those perfectly rosy lips, slightly swollen from their sloppy makeout. After a long moment of hesitation, silent save for the sounds of their heavy breathing, Sorey finally brought his hands up to his own chest, resting his fingers just below his collarbone.

Mikleo wanted to be disgusted with himself for how much he enjoyed the sight, but he also wasn't so dense as to lie to himself. Sorey's hands slowly moved downward, trailing past the pronounced curve of his pectoral muscles and down to the dip of his navel, meeting each other in the wisp of hair at the level of his zipper. He was obviously flustered, but hadn't lost that spark of excitement in his eyes – or the one obscured by his pajamas. He stared down at Mikleo with brazen intensity, but he didn't move any further, aside from the rise and fall of his chest. One look at his face, and Mikleo knew all that he needed to know.

"You don't have to do this," he assured him. He finally relinquished his grip on Sorey's rear and instead moved his hands to rest on each of his thighs, finding the muscles taut beneath his fingertips. "Really, it's okay."

Sorey fiddled with the tiny ribbon on his zipper pull, but did not avert his eyes. "No, I really want this – I want _you,_ " he insisted. "I just... think I need a minute."

"Then take all the time you need." Mikleo tried to smile, but he wasn't sure if it would have the right effect, considering how badly his words clashed with the way he had been panting and squirming against Sorey's weight on his legs.

The subtle, yet unmistakable sound of zipper teeth separating drew his gaze from Sorey's flushed face down to his belly. One of Sorey's hands disappeared behind him to support his weight as he leaned back, while the other tugged _so slowly_ on the zipper pull that Mikleo was pretty sure he was going to die of old age before he got to see anything. His companion apparently noticed the intensity of his gaze after a few seconds, though, and he picked up the pace just a tiny bit, but still slow enough that he could hear every metallic click as the pull moved down, down, and further down. A moment later, he could see the bright orange of a waistband peeking out from behind the white fleece. "Oh," he murmured, noting the way his partner's expression brightened at his tone of encouragement. "Gods, please don't stop now."

Sorey didn't stop. Instead, in one fell swipe, he yanked the zipper the rest of the way down, exposing his underwear and a portion of his thighs, which clearly hadn't seen as much sunlight as his arms and torso.

Mikleo took a moment to let the sight sink in, willing himself to remember every last shape that made up Sorey's body. He wasn't sure if Sorey was trembling more from anticipation or the cold, but he was rock-hard and nearly spilling out of the constraints of his way-too-short boxer briefs, which were _also_ insanely adorable and printed with a pattern of citrus fruits that did not match the rest of his outfit in the slightest. Everything about him, from his stupid cute face to his stupid perfect chest, right down to the dark trail of hair from his navel to the elastic band below – it was getting to be too much.

"Can I...?" He didn't finish his sentence, and instead let his fingers creep forward until they met lowest reaches of the zippered edge of the pajamas.

Sorey took a deep breath and nodded.

There was no reason to waste any more time, then.

Mikleo released the cold metal and immediately reached for the colorful waistband of Sorey's underwear, dipping his fingers beneath the elastic almost greedily before pulling the material down. Sorey gasped as he was quite suddenly exposed to the chilly air, though the cold did not appear to be having any adverse effects just yet. That didn't make Mikleo want to curse any less; the useless idiot above him was _totally_ packing, and was somehow _even more perfect_ that he'd originally concluded.

"I'm never going to be able to look you in the eye again," Sorey all but whined. Mikleo chanced a glance upward, just to prove him wrong, but Sorey had already obscured the upper part of his face with his free hand. Though it was more of a grimace at this point, at least his smile had been left uncovered.

"C'mon. Look at me."

"No. I can't."

"Please?"

"Nah."

Mikleo rolled his eyes, took half a second to spit into his hand, and grabbed Sorey's dick before he could have another chance to protest. His actions earned him a small victory; Sorey yelped and threw his arm to the side so that he could steady himself on the console. His eyes, long since darkened with lust to the deepest jungle green, focused right away on the sight below. He looked somewhere between bliss and complete mortification. Another victory.

"Sorey?"

"Mm?"

"If I do this, will you finish for me?"

His partner closed his eyes, answering with a breathy moan in place of words.

A sense of pride welled in Mikleo's chest at that response. Slowly, he twisted his hand, coating Sorey in a thick layer of saliva before he tightened his grip, earning another guttural sound from deep within Sorey's chest.

"Do you like it?"

Sorey nodded frantically. "Yeah, I do. I-it feels so good already, I don't think I'm gonna... last long?"

Mikleo worked his hand down to the base. "That's all right. I want you to come on me, like, _right now_."

Sorey's keening was worth how stupid he felt saying something like that. "C-can you wait, like, maybe thirty seconds?"

"If I must."

But he didn't, and Sorey didn't even last that long.

A long silence pervaded the atmosphere, filled with Sorey's desperate little gasps for air as he leaned forward and, trembling, tucked his face away against Mikleo's neck. With his clean hand, Mikleo reached up to pet his hair, lamenting the mess on his sweater despite the rush of pride that coursed through his veins. He knew the quick finish was likely due to the emotional strain of the night, but he still couldn't help but be a _little_ proud of himself; he'd never made any of his former lovers reach completion so fast. Where most would feel disappointment, his infatuation grew even stronger.

"I'm so embarrassed right now," Sorey mumbled, breaking the silence. "I can't believe I just –"

"It's okay," he assured him. He kissed the top of his head to drive the point home. "That was just the easy one."

Sorey half-laughed, half-moaned in response. "I hope so. But I think you're just too perfect for me to –"

Whatever he was going to say never made it past his lips. A sudden, loud rapping at the driver's side window took both of them off guard, ruining the moment completely as Sorey tried to throw himself back into the proper seat. With his legs still pinned in place, though, he did not make it a single inch. Mikleo craned his neck and tried to see around him, only to find that they had _somehow_ managed to completely fog the windows, obscuring any view of the world outside.

A second set of knocks came from the passenger window.

Sorey hurriedly tucked himself back into his underwear, muttering something to himself about _gross_ , before jamming his arms through the sleeves of his pajamas. Just as he finished zipping up, they both heard a voice from the other side of the glass.

"Sorey? Are you in there? Is everything all right?"

If his face weren't so flushed, Sorey would probably have gone white. He fumbled with the panel on the door for a moment before he found the right button, cracking the passenger window just wide enough that the person standing outside could see his face.

"Natalie?"

"Oh, thank goodness. You're okay!" The woman standing there breathed a sigh of relief, shaking her head. "We were just headed to the house, but Mason saw your car and got worried. He thought you'd broken down all the way out here!"

"I'm fine, promise," Sorey said through a laugh. "I was just – uhh –"

A man joined Natalie at the passenger window, peering in with no lack of curiosity. "What are you doing out here, little bro? Family driving you that crazy?"

"Hey, Mason! Long time no see!"

Mikleo was glad that he was still hidden beneath Sorey's form from their angle, else he might have died of embarrassment.

"You should really get back to the house," Mason chided. "The storm's been getting worse and worse. It took us forever to get here! There's no way this little thing will make it down the mountain."

A thump from below drew a level of hostility out of Sorey that Mikleo hadn't anticipated. "Hey! Don't kick my car!"

That was when he sealed their fate, tearing into a new bout of laughter. He couldn't help it; for a self-proclaimed scholar, Sorey _clearly_ held a surprising amount of fondness for his vehicle.

Sorey grimaced as both Mason and Natalie's expressions twisted in confusion. Then, Natalie's hands flew up to cover her mouth, eyebrows raised comically high.

"Oh my _god_ , Mason. I don't believe it. Is this actually happening?"

Mason leaned closer, trying to peek through the crack in the window. Sorey promptly rolled the window back up, hiding Mikleo from view; however, the damage was already done.

Natalie still sounded beside herself, even with how muffled her voice sounded. "Come on, Sorey! You're not fooling anyone now!"

"I can't believe my baby brother snuck out of his own party to bone some guy – _in a parking lot!_ I'm so proud!"

Mikleo tried not to laugh even harder, but failed, choking out half-apologies as Sorey fixed him with a feigned cold stare.

"You owe me _so much ice cream._ "

 

* * *

 

"Don't come crying to me when you realize this is a terrible mistake."

Edna hadn't approved of his choice in friends (other than herself) since Mikleo had met her, way back when they had both been children. Even worse were her opinions about any of his potential suitors. She had turned out to be right about every single one of his failed relationships in the past, though, so he liked to pretend, on occasion, that her opinions on such things mattered to him.

"It's not a mistake." He tried to speak as casually as possible, but judging by the look Edna gave him right after, he achieved the exact opposite. "I've never been more certain of anything in my life. I think he's... hell, I don't know, my soul mate or something."

She rolled her eyes so exaggeratedly, he almost couldn't see anything but the whites of them. "You're so gross. Ugh."

"I know, right? But you know, I don't think I've actually been in love before now. Things with Sorey are different."

"It's called puppy love, and it won't last." Her insistent tone never could mask the concern in her voice, but that didn't stop Mikleo from frowning as she spoke. "I know, I know, this is your first real rebound. But that's what's pissing me off. You're rushing things. You're being stupid. If this guy really is worth every disgusting ounce of praise you've oozed about him since December, why don't you take it slow?"

"Taking it slow has never worked in the past," he answered, choosing to ignore her insults. "Though, I am kind of scared, to be honest. If that makes you feel better."

She looked the slightest bit surprised at his admission. "Why are you going through with it, then?"

"I'm not scared of _him_ , it's just... He's so sweet and kind, Edna. I'm worried that _I'll_ be the one to mess things up this time."

She dropped her patronizing scowl, finally, and leaned her shoulder against his. "Man, we both know better than that."

"I dunno."

"Meebo, you're basically perfect, and you need to _remember_ that instead of letting other people's bullshit drag you down. Don't apologize for the other guy's mistakes this time. Stand up for yourself, be honest, and everything will work out fine."

He leaned his weight onto her. "You really think so?"

"Fine, yeah, whatever. But that doesn't mean I'm okay with _this_." She gestured to his backpack and the boxes all over the room, each packed full with his belongings and an assortment of junk from downstairs. "Wouldn't it be better to do something romantic instead? Like maybe a trip somewhere? Moving in together so close to Valentine's Day is just so... domestic."

"We're not moving in together. I just want the major repairs done by next month, so Sorey can help me with the rest of it. I've got to be ready to open by summertime," he explained for what had to have been the third time that day. "This isn't a permanent thing, and has nothing to do with our relationship. I'll just be staying in one of his spare rooms until the contractors are finished up here."

"Riiiiiiight. _And_ taking advantage of his incredibly hot body the whole time?"

Mikleo couldn't help but smirk. "Yeah, that too, hopefully."

"I guess nothing I say is gonna change your mind," she ceded. "Just remember, you have my number if you need anything. I don't care if Eizen has to drive us from here to the other side of Hyland, just give the word and we're there."

"Thanks, Edna."

"You're gross, Meebo."

Mikleo laughed to himself and turned around to finish sorting his jackets, trying to decide on which would be best suited for the colder weather in Elysia. He was having a hard time focusing with his mind drifting off to memories of what had ultimately turned out to be the best week of his life – memories of the worst snowstorm to hit Ladylake in years, sure, but that had hardly mattered when he'd spent most of that week wrapped in Sorey's arms (and legs).

The termination of his engagement had turned out to be a blessing in disguise. He'd returned to Sorey's house from their tryst in the creepy gas station parking lot to find a warm welcome – a proper welcome – waiting for him, courtesy of Mason and his _real_ fianceé. Even though most of his boyfriend's family had been super drunk at the time, they had been _ecstatic_ to meet him; this went doubly so for the ones who'd interrupted their escapade, who'd sworn to keep the details of their first encounter secret in exchange for Sorey's most treasured recipe.

Before the whole ordeal, Mikleo had been convinced that being trapped with a group of strangers would be the worst experience of his life. However, he couldn't help but grow fond of the lot of them by the time he'd left. They reminded him of simpler times, back when his Uncle Michael would show up to spend the holiday with him and his mother – back when he'd had _family,_ and the future had seemed bright enough to fight for. The days spent in Elysia had healed a part of his soul that he'd been neglecting for far too long.

And, no matter what Edna thought, Sorey was definitely not just a rebound in the aftermath of his ugly breakup. During that week, they'd spent so much time pouring their souls out to each other that Mikleo had fallen irrevocably in love. Sorey, ever gallant, had even offered to front him the money to restore his mother's shop to its former glory – "Really, Gramps left me a _ridiculous_ inheritance," he'd insisted. "I want to see it put to good use."

Mikleo hadn't accepted a penny until they'd written a contract outlining the terms of repayment, but even so, it was the nicest thing anyone had ever done for him. If Sorey hadn't stolen his heart before then, that would have sealed the deal. Now, he would be able to save enough money to continue his education, maybe hire a couple of employees to run the shop while he attended his classes; there was so much to think about, so much to plan. For now, though, he would have to focus on the rest of his packing, trying not to get lost in all the possibilities offered by the days to come.

Thanks to the disastrous mix-up that had brought Sorey into his life, for the first time in years, he was feeling hopeful again – and nothing was going to change that.

 


End file.
